


your heart was glass (i dropped it)

by cyclothimic



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Again, Alternate Universe - James Bond Fusion, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Happy Ending, I need help, POV Lena Luthor, Romance, Task Force X, i ended up writing 7k, this was supposed to be like 3k
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28091157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyclothimic/pseuds/cyclothimic
Summary: "I'm gonna tell you something."A scientist. A collector of books. A curious person. Lena liked to hear things, in spite of her determination to stay away from all things 005. And yet, she also realized something: she liked to hear things from 005, aka Kara Danvers. Irrationally so.-or Kara is a spy and Lena is a scientist inventing the gadgets, and Kara ends up telling Lena a lot of things, even though she's a spy.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Lena Luthor & Winn Schott Jr., Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, Samantha "Sam" Arias & Lena Luthor, Samantha "Sam" Arias/Alex Danvers (mentioned)
Comments: 91
Kudos: 579
Collections: Gays in Earth 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> holy crap, two fics in a week! well, fellas, i took a week off from week, and good god, it's invigorating. i'm finding so much energy to write fics that i've been picturing in my head for eons but never had the time to write. this one has certainly been swirling around but never came around because i never had the time to really flesh it out.
> 
> and now that i'm off - i finally have some time to really think and do it. i don't even really care if y'all like it - i'm kidding, i do care, a little bit, please love me - but good god, i'm so glad to finally be able to put it out. i have to say though, i don't know a lick about spy stuff and other crap, so, uh, just pretend i know what i'm talking about.
> 
> now, read, ponder, and enjoy!

_Sometimes, you just don't know the answer;_

' _Til someone's on their knees and asks you:_

" _She would've made such a lovely bride._

" _What a shame she's fucked in the head," they said._

_-champagne problems, Taylor Swift_

* * *

The surprise was perhaps irrational and illogical, come to think about it.

Not when she had sailed through her classes at MIT like a well-oiled yacht prepped to the brim for all emergencies. Not when she made history by achieving not one, not two, but _three_ doctorates at the mere age of 20. Not when the rest of the world, or at least stateside, had expected her to helm the R&D department of her family's legacy and launch it on the international state.

So she _really_ shouldn't have been surprised when she found a woman dressed in a well-fitting pantsuit knocking on her door while she was still packing to prepare for graduation. But she was anyway, especially as the stranger flashed a badge in her face, a well-meaning smile on her face, and Lena had to wonder if she'd broken the law recently to warrant a visit from the CIA.

"Ms. Luthor, my name's Amanda Waller, and I'm from the CIA. How would you like a job?"

And that was the beginning of it all.

* * *

While she had grown up in a mansion arguably larger than the White House and understood the ins and outs of LuthorCorp since the moment she'd learned to comprehend scientific terms and mathematical equations, Lena had never been interested in getting involved in the company. Mainly because growing up, she had been privy to a lot of underhanded methods that her family tended to use to smooth things out, and they disgusted her more than anything.

Hence, the moment Amanda Waller had sat down on her bed casually and talked her through the workings of Task Force X, Lena hardly hesitated in agreeing to the job. Rather than having to contribute to the harms her brother had wrought onto the world, Lena much preferred being a part of something that could bring him down once and for all.

Of course, as the head of covert-covert government agency, Waller hadn't exactly shied away from veiled threats of abduction and torture if Lena had let an alphabet of the entire conversation out in case she didn't take the job. However, Lena took it in stride and just shrugged in agreement. After all, she was the daughter of one of the richest tech barons in the country; she'd encountered her fair share of threats in her short lifetime.

"With your skillsets, you'll a quartermaster, or Q in short," the leader of Q-division, Querl Dox, told her.

He was fairly young to be leading a division, but he was also one of the most prominent mechanical engineers on this side of the earth. That was, until he dropped off the face of the earth six years ago. Now she knew why.

To the outside world, Lena would be the black sheep of the family who had drawn her name out of the roulette to represent LuthorCorp, publicly shamed by her adoptive mother and figuratively mourned by her brother, who still failed to understand her full disdain towards him. In truth, she would be a Q in Q-Division, delivering logistic means for field agents on Task Force X to e

Normally, a Q would be isolated to their own specific skillset, but Lena had proven to be quite the master of all arts, whether it was chemistry, strategy, mechanics, quantum physics, computer security, or one thing or another. As such, Dox – or Brainy, as he had instructed her to address him – had, in a manner that was out of character, had decided to give her a test period of three months to decide where she would fare best.

"Your work will _not_ be known to the world," Brainy had warned during their final interview before she would be admitted as a full-time staff. "You will work underground. You will invent. You will cure. You will have access to top-of-the-line technology. You will be anonymous."

"All due respect, I'm known more than I want to be known. Some anonymity will do me good."

"Fair enough."

"The real question is: Are _you_ ready to have someone with my name on your team?"

Brainy paused in his steps. Waller placed her chin in her palm, one arm crossed over her chest, an enigmatic look on her face as she studied Lena. Around them, the rest of the Q-division were working – Lena thought she could recognize Felicity Smoak among the faces – unaware of the recruitment process led by their superiors.

In the end though, Waller only did that smile of hers, similar to the one she had when she'd knocked on Lena's door three weeks ago, mysterious and telling of _nothing_ at all. She didn't extend a hand for a shake or pat her on the shoulder.

All she did was locked her hands behind her back and started walking away, but not without imparting, "Welcome to Q-Division, Dr. Luthor."

It took all Lena had to just stand there, watching as Waller's figure disappear around a corner. She was a Q now; it would be embarrassing and uncomely to jump in giddiness at finally being recognized for what she was: a _doctor_. She had three doctorates and she was a _doctor_ , and dear god, she had a feeling she would do _so many things_ here.

* * *

"I'm gonna tell you something."

Lena looked up from her microscope to find – _well_. Practical. Straight to the point. Focused. Those were all qualities that Lena appreciated about herself, and Waller and Brainy definitely saw in her to pick her out among a horde of geniuses who had graduated with her from MIT.

Despite all that, though, Lena was still a woman. A woman who liked women. And men, too, occasionally, but women nonetheless.

And standing at the entrance to the lab was a _woman_. Tall with long legs emphasized by a pair of _very_ assuming slacks. Underneath the pantsuit was undoubtedly some well-defined muscles, considering the manner in which the woman filled it out so perfectly, like it was tailor made for her, though with the salary that Task Force X shelled out, it wouldn't be surprising if the suit _was_ tailor made.

The most startling of all, though, was the face that went along with the figure. The angelic face with the kind smile and azure blue eyes barely disguised behind a pair of square-rimmed glasses. Accompanied with long locks of blonde hair that seemed well-maintained in a neat ponytail. It would perhaps be more of a surprise if people said that she _wasn't_ sculpted by god himself, if such a thing existed.

Lena was a woman who liked women. And this was a woman who definitely some things off in her head, especially alarms.

"What might that be?" she greeted, keeping her composure of coldness and professionalism in spite of the alarms going off. "I'm assuming you're 005."

The woman inclined her head in confirmation and made her way inside the lab, hands tucked into her pockets. Instinctually, Lena would have taken a step back to maintain some distance, but that would be a show of weakness, so she stayed put, perched on a stool and waiting.

005 started shedding her blazer and rolling the left sleeve of her blue button-down – Lena had a feeling that this woman would look well in any color.

"Needles. I don't like them," she declared, making herself comfortable on the empty stool next to Lena and propping her arm next to the microscope.

Lena raised her brow and stood up, gathering all the supplies needed, including a small briefcase where the remaining doses sat in. Potentially lethal and definitely limited, only Lena, Brainy, and Waller could access the briefcase with their thumbprints and retinal recognition.

"You're a double-oh agent," she remarked, opening the briefcase to reveal the last two doses of the implants.

Only two days after her official introduction to the Q-division, she was officially inducted into Task Force X as well when Waller assigned her to 006, or Samantha Arias, a similarly tall woman with brown hair and soothing voice and infamous proclivities for using one's biology against themselves in her missions. With a license to kill, it was hardly a war crime.

And only one week since she entered Q-division, she'd managed to come up with something that astounded even the galaxy brain of Brainy. A system of authorizing weapons to the DNA of agents by implanting a chip in a double-oh's bloodstream. It could streamline the distribution of weapons and prevent any undue course of going rogue, should it ever happen.

According to Winn Schott, a computer security expert second only to Smoak, agents going rogue had never happened before, but Waller was of the opinion that one could never be too careful.

So as soon as she could declare the implant safe and ready, Waller had immediately put all the double-ohs in line outside Lena's lab to be implanted, letting Schott do the work of installing the counterparts in Task Force X's endless arsenal of weapons. Schott had made Lena promise a week of coffee for making him do all the hard work.

She had met almost all the double-ohs, and they were all fairly good looking. One would have to if they were in the business of spying and assassinations. But not once had she been quite as struck as when she first saw the face of 005.

"Kara," 005 introduced herself once the deed was done and the implant was swimming in her body.

"Le –" She caught herself and clenched her jaw.

Protocols at Task Force X dictated advanced professionalism and distance between the agents and the quartermaster. So yes, while everyone knew everyone's name, only Qs and double-ohs assigned to one another would call each other by name, while the others would address them by their codenames. The rules were more strictly applied to field agents, but Lena liked professionalism.

She considered it the apex of operating a department such as Task Force X.

"Q," she decided, shaking Kara's left hand nonetheless.

Kara observed for a moment, and uncharacteriscally, the attention set something ablaze beneath her skin, not unlike how it would feel to stick a needle beneath and inject an implant. It was unsettling and definitely _unlike_ her.

And then she just smiled, so brilliantly that it traveled right down to the scientist's kneecaps. This just would _not_ do. "Alright, be that way," she commented and started retreating from the lab, no doubt for a mission or briefing. "Nice to meet you, _Q_."

It shouldn't take a genius to figure out who Lena was, much less a spy, the very essence of whose job would be figuring people out. The rest of the Q-division had quickly recognized her, with Smoak and Schott even complimenting on her dissertations, both having graduated from MIT themselves. The double-ohs who strolled into her lab carried recognition in their eyes, even inquiring about her decision to come here, which she didn't really appreciate.

But Kara – _005_ – didn't so much as flinch when she saw Lena. She could distinctly remember the first time she met those eyes, and they carried not a hint of recognition as they were introduced to one another. And yet, Kara didn't say anything and respected her desire to be known by her codename, pretending as if Lena was a scientist just like any other Qs. She appreciated that _a lot_.

* * *

Good work, that was it. That was all Waller ever said about anything anyone ever did in Task Force X, be it the Q-division or the fieldwork. But Lena soaked it up, because it didn't take long to comprehend that the head of Task Force X wasn't the type of heap compliments and praise you all day; she had better things to do.

Plus, Lena wasn't here to be recognized. The moment she scribbled her name over the dotted line with the pen that her father had gifted her on her 14th birthday, she knew that there would be no recognition of her intellectual capacity anywhere else but the limitations within these four walls she called her office. She was here to be at the cutting edge of science and serve her country. That was it.

"Good work," Waller commented on Lena's progress on her next project – a way to subscribe debilitation towards enemies getting ahold of their weapons – and walked out the way she came in, and Lena took it in stride.

"You should be honored. That's about as good it gets."

Lena wasn't surprised, but there was no point denying that her heart skipped a beat when she saw Kara standing there. She raised her brow and tilted her head, refusing to physically react to the manner in which the corner of Kara's mouth was tilted in a complimentary smirk. Or the manner in which her eyes twinkled with admiration.

"005," she greeted, returning half her attention to the desktop screen.

"You're seriously not gonna tell me your name?"

Part of Lena was tempted to call Kara out on her false obtuseness, because Lena's name _wasn't_ a secret. If she could help it, she would wipe all traces of herself from all public databases, but alas, her name was unfortunately at the top of many buildings across the country – she couldn't help that her brother was an attention mongering psychopath.

"Protocol," she settled.

"Our names aren't part of the protocol. At least not between the task force's personnel anyway," Kara rebuked, rolling her eyes and edging closer to Lena.

She knew, because she could practically _feel_ the heat that the double-oh seemed to uncharacteriscally exude for a human being. "Can I help you, _005_?" Lena emphasized, trying and probably failing to get her point across, distractedly inputting some false data to test out the effectiveness of her program.

"Aren't you a chemical engineer?"

"I'm a jack of all trades. That's why Waller plucked me out of MIT."

"Ah, so you came from MIT. Glad to at least learn _something_ about you," Kara commented, leaning her hip against the desk at which Lena was working.

She commanded presence and demureness with her entire being; the moment she walked into a room, the atmosphere would go bright and happy. It wasn't something that Lena would expect from a spy, much less a spy with diplomatic immunity in 143 countries and a license to kill in more countries than that.

But she'd quickly learned that Kara wasn't just a spy. Lena had tried her very best to _not_ learn anything about Kara, despite her own closeness with Schott, the Q assigned to Kara. She refused to perk up whenever he made any peripheral mention of his reckless double-oh. She deigned to not participate in office gossip about the field agents between the Qs whenever they take the time for a break, rare as it was.

She was determined to put distance between herself and Kara, because anything more than peripheral colleagues would not only be bad news for her career, but also definitely her heart. It seemed, though, Kara didn't get that particular memo.

"I'm guessing being a jack of all trades, you know Latin too?"

Lena blinked, not shifting her gaze away from the screen. "Who knows Latin?" she shot out, acting obtuse herself.

"From what I've heard, _you_ , Q."

Conclusion: Kara had been checking up on her. She didn't know how to feel about that and she would do that later, when she went back home with a nice tumbler of scotch and a good book she wasn't going to read. For now, she deigned to look at Kara at last, who was staring back at her expectantly. With those eyes, it was no wonder Schott and Brainy let her get away with so many things.

Regardless of the puppy eyes, the blonde had lost the mischief from earlier. In its stead was an expression of absolute seriousness and all-around behavior suited for a spy in her position. Kara nodded, to herself or to Lena, she couldn't be certain.

"I'm gonna tell you something."

A scientist. A collector of books. A curious person. Lena liked to hear things, in spite of her determination to stay away from all things 005. And yet, she also realized something: she liked to hear things from 005. Irrationally so. Oh boy.

* * *

Lena wasn't exactly unfamiliar with gun ranges. However, she'd definitely seen better gun ranges than this, where the semi-autos looked like they were about to fall off the rusted hooks at any time. The boy manning the admission counter appeared as if he was about two days away from puberty, which meant he had no business whatsoever to be at a gun range in whatever capacity.

She couldn't help a grimace when the boy threw her a leer, as if he was old enough to leer. God, the standards of this country nowadays. Sometimes, she wondered if it was worth it to fight for this country in the role she had taken up with Task Force X.

Despite the options available, Lena decided to go with a simple Glock. Compact and lethal. It was just a gun range. She wasn't expecting to be assassinated anytime soon – that time of her life had gone once her family had realized she _really_ had no intentions to participate in LuthorCorp at any point in time. In fact, her mother even seemed nicer at their weekly dinners now.

"This place can't be legal," she muttered, tailing Sam towards the shooting area.

Sam smiled in response. "It's not," she replied. "Underground gambling den, actually. The range is just a front." They headed towards their respective booths. "Then again, it's not within our purview, so we just…turn a blind eye and take advantage."

"Even as a front, it's a shit front."

"There's a permit. Financial records every quarter. That's all we need in this country, right?" Sam asked rhetorically with a shit-eating grin.

There were times Lena wondered if Americans were better off extinct, especially when she came across establishments like this.

"Sorry, why are we here again?"

"Spies can't be choosers," was all Sam said in response before she put on her earmuffs and glasses, focusing on the target before her.

Lena did the same and held up a gun, entering a mode where she would be focused on nothing else but the thing in front of her. The thing, the target that she'd imagined to be Morgan Edge, because that bastard had been a hell of a nightmare to her during her MIT days, and it was always nice to think that she could shoot him in the head and get away with it.

Truth was stark in Sam's words. Spies, with all the wealth and the technology and the unparalleled skills in the world, couldn't be choosers. At the end of the day, in a real-world scenario where they had to shed their profession, they could only lie and disguise to keep the world spinning and their many, many identities in check. And if there was a place where they could enjoy its facilities without giving up something as simple as an ID, well, they would _eat_ it up.

Once they ran out of ammo and their time was up, Sam removed her earmuffs and moved behind Lena to have a look at her handiwork. She squinted, her mouth slightly opened, and after a few seconds of observation, she said, "Not bad."

Lena only shrugged. "Family contributes a lot to the NRA," she offered.

"Now, what do you have for me?"

And they were down to business. They handed back the guns and empty cartridges, actively avoiding the leers the boy at the counter was sending them. Once they reached Lena's car, the raven-haired woman took out a briefcase from the back and handed it over to Sam, equipped with all the double-oh would need for her mission. Things like passports, weapon, extraction plans, and the like.

"I brought you here, because I like you," Sam said, holding on to the briefcase once she'd checked the contents. "You're much better than the last Q assigned to me. And we should at least get to know each other, right? Someone's got to," she added with a reconciliatory twitch to her lips.

In the short time since Lena started earning her keep at Task Force X, she'd learned things about colleagues, be they Qs or double-ohs.

For example, Smoak was Jewish and had an odd relationship with her mother. Schott had an irrational fear of toys and actively steered away from toy stores. 002 liked to run whenever he wasn't on a mission, because it was the one thing that allowed him to just be himself without being responsible for anything else.

But this moment, that look on Sam's face, was the second she supposed she finally got a grasp of what it was like to be in their line of work, especially for field agents. Standing under the lowering sun, holding a briefcase that consisted of a whole new life for at least the next month, Sam was shaping up to be like a human being and not something that came out of legendary novels.

"We should get coffee when you get back," Lena offered, an olive branch of sorts.

Sam nodded in agreement. "Let's."

After they'd parted and Lena was driving back to the headquarters, she pondered all that she'd learned in a shady gun range. Maybe that was why 006 had been so determined to learn her name and even introduced her own without much prompting.

_Someone's got to._

* * *

At the end of the day, they were all liars. Qs and double-ohs. Saving the world and doing it anonymously. No one knew who they were, and someone's got to. Someone _should_.

That was why she didn't complain when 005 – _Kara_ – came strolling into her designated space at the lab. The desk lamp served as the only source of light within the underground headquarters, everywhere else having darkened after everyone else had left to their lives outside these four walls. They would drink, they would watch Netflix, they would pretend they didn't do this for a living.

It was perhaps also a testament of how exhausted she had become that she didn't so much as bat an eye at seeing Kara without her usual getup. Her sleeves were rolled up and part of her hair was let down. The glasses she usually sported were tucked in the small pocket of her button down. She looked just about as exhausted as Lena felt.

"Q, this is the fourth day I've seen you here at this hour," Kara said, occupying the stool next to Lena's – it was an odd throwback to the day they first met.

"You'd have to be doing the same if you noticed," Lena retorted, though without the usual walls she'd put up in the blonde's presence. Like she said, she was entirely too exhausted to care.

Kara hummed, lowering her chin as if to say _touché_ wordlessly.

"You don't really need those, do you?" Lena asked, pointing at the glasses in the other woman's pocket.

With a hum, the other woman still appeared confused at the query for a bit. And then she looked at where Lena was gesturing and she made a noise of acknowledgement, sitting up straighter and taking the object out of the pocket, fiddling with the arms. She smiled and shook her head.

Call it the exhaustion or whatever, Lena just smiled at the confirmation and fully turned away from the book on metaphysics she'd been reading. She propped an elbow on the edge of the desk and placed her chin in her palm, studying the woman before her, who was still fiddling with the glasses.

The woman. Who was a spy. Who was, for all intents and purposes, a murderer, whether cold blooded or not was still up for debate. Who was inexplicably intent on searching for Lena every time she was here, regardless of whether she'd been out on a mission for days or months.

The woman, the spy, the murderer, who looked oddly bare without her glasses. A new side that Lena had yet to know.

"This life," Kara started, intently staring at her glasses. "It's very easy to get sucked into. You do it with purpose, clear outcomes in your head. But the things you _do_ to achieve the outcome, they're so…easy and irrationally fun." She sighed and replaced the glasses, meeting Lena's eyes. "The glasses. I think of them as a…conduit. When I put them on, I'm 005. When I take them off, I'm Kara, who loves her sister and celebrates things like birthdays and pretends she doesn't know that her colleague's dating her sister."

Lena narrowed her eyes a little. "We'll circle back to the sister part in a bit," she pointed out, eliciting a chuckle from the blonde. "So it's another form of…pretense?" she asked.

"A lot of the time, fake passports and fancy suits aren't enough."

"Don't you get tired of it?"

"Do you get tired of this?"

"I'm in here. You're out there."

"And we still lie for a living."

Well, again, call it exhaustion or whatever, but Lena didn't really have anything to rebuke that short but concise statement. It said it all, their roles in life for the foreseeable future. She placed a bookmark in the book, resorting to continue her reading tomorrow. Or today. She couldn't exactly tell time now.

"And right now, you're…"

Kara grinned, tired as it was. "You seem like a decent person to be Kara with." Lena tilted her head, an inexplicable spreading in her chest at the easy revelation. "You're definitely much better than Graves," she added, shuddering at the thought of Lena's predecessor.

Lena thought back to last week, the things that Sam had said to her after their stint at the gun range. _Someone's got to_. She thought about the coffee they'd promised one another, an attempt at getting to know one another, because someone _should_.

Oh, fine. Fine. She was worn down. She couldn't string two sentences together in the book if she tried. She was yearning for the bed waiting for her back home. She was finding herself irrationally drawn to this life and the woman before her. _Fine_. She got the message.

"Lena," she offered with a sigh, wondering how the hell she'd gotten to this stage.

Kara's eyes widened for a bit, somewhat confused at the abruptness. Comprehension soon dawned upon her, and her smile only widened. Lena still wasn't sure if she would regret this decision, the dropping of protocols and the bashing of walls, but she was sure that she liked that look on Kara's face.

* * *

"Wait, so who's dating your sister?"

"I'm gonna tell you something."

"I'm assuming that's the point of you coming in here."

" _Your_ double-oh."

"No way."

"Yes way."

"How'd you find out?"

"I'm a spy. I spy."

"On your _sister_?"

"I wasn't exactly _expecting_ to find my sister doing the horizontal tango with my colleague, thank you very much."

* * *

In the Luthor household, grocery shopping was never a concern. As a child, she had never actively considered the logistics of it, just glad that there was always mint chocolate chip ice-cream in the freezer for her to devour out of her stepmother's sight. Growing up, she'd learned that they had people who would go to the supermarket every week to pick up stuff to refill the pantry, but she'd never participated.

Now, as an adult who'd decidedly cut herself off from her wealthy family, aside from the significant trust fund her father had deliberately set aside for her, Lena had resorted to do the things she'd never had to do: grocery shopping. On a rare weekend when there didn't seem to be anything needing her attention – spy work, it never stopped – she found herself at a market a couple of blocks away from her place.

It wasn't as if she cooked, not with the crazy schedule she was saddled with. But sometimes, cooking was nice. Soothing. Even a simple salad would suffice. A kale juice, cleansing and hydrating.

"Lena, _no_." She blinked at the sudden interruption of an otherwise slow day and looked up to find one Kara Danvers standing a few feet away, staring at her with pure disgust. " _Kale_? Seriously?"

"What's wrong with kale?"

"What _isn't_ wrong with kale? Or anything in this aisle, actually?" Kara bemoaned, waving her arm at the vegetable aisle they were standing in. "Come on, we're not animals. We deserve real food."

"What exactly is real food?"

"Ice-cream. Beef. Chicken. Pork. _Lamb_. Real food."

Lena would love to retort. There were two things in life that she lived for: science and debate. Retorting would have been a second career choice if it was ever one.

Except she found herself at a loss as she followed Kara's arms, finally remembering where they were. A market, near her place. A locale that should belong to Lena and Lena only, where she should have _zero_ chance of running into anyone at work, especially Kara Danvers.

Never had she been with anyone at work _outside_ of work accidentally. Every encounter was always deliberate, either arranged by her or Sam. Yes, her or _Sam_ , because they were the Q and double-oh assigned to one another and it wasn't always convenient to meet at the headquarters. She'd deliberately isolated her work life to work, meeting her colleagues at work and that was that.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she queried with incredulity, not quite understanding how she found herself in this situation.

"What do people do at supermarkets?" Kara replied, shrugging, her glasses particularly reflective in the bright lights of the supermarket.

Wait. Glasses. She was wearing her glasses. Outside of work. On what was supposedly an off day.

Suddenly, it came to her. Sure, Kara wasn't wearing her regular pantsuit, outfitted instead a rather casual sweater and a pair of well-fitting jeans – Lena took a moment to decide that she _really_ liked this look.

However, Lena also recognized the puppy pin on the collar of her sweater, a microfiber camera tool that Lena had come up with at Q-division. She noticed the sneakers that Kara was wearing, of which the soles were equipped with a mechanism that would detect empty spaces behind barriers and the chemical makeup of basically _anything_ they touched, courtesy of Cisco Ramon.

On any other day, she figured she probably wouldn't have noticed any of these. But the late-night conversation from last week had changed things. And now, she was noticing things like glasses and pins and soles. She was noticing a lot of things about Kara.

She dropped the kale into the basket and took a few steps closer to Kara so that no one could hear them, except suspect that they were being unnecessarily close in a public space. "It's probably not wise for you to talk to me on a mission, is it?" she muttered, smoothing out her hair and pasting on a smile.

To her credit, Kara didn't even seem surprised that Lena had figured it out so quickly. She made a bolder move and leaned her down a fraction, drawing their faces so close that Lena could make out the freckles dotting her cheeks under the makeup. "I'm the spy here. I know what I'm doing," she answered.

"I thought you only carry out missions overseas."

"Overseas brought me back here."

"Are you stalking me?"

"Do you want me to stalk you?"

"Did you kill someone?"

"That's classified."

For a moment, among the thousands of questions that Lena had, specifically what kind of mission she could be pulling off in a freaking _supermarket_ , she just got distracted instead, counting the freckles and outlining the wrinkles that decorated Kara's already perfect face. For a moment, she might have allowed herself some semblance of weakness and lean closer to get a stronger whiff of the woman's cologne.

The moment was definitively broken when someone called Kara's name from behind Lena. She started and staggered back, though Kara stayed where she was, an enigmatic smirk on her face.

"I don't think I've ever seen you in this aisle before," a redhead remarked, stumbling to Kara's side. She turned to Lena, and the scientist had to blink, because _of course_ Kara would keep attractive company too. "Who's this?"

"Alex, this is Lena, friend from work." Lena raised a brow at the term she'd been bestowed – she didn't know they were friends. "Lena, meet Alex, my sister."

"Oh." _Oh_. At the revelation, Lena couldn't help but get a closer study of Alex, the woman her double-oh was said to be dating. God, this was proving to be a very _revealing_ day. "Hi," she offered stiltedly, extending a polite hand, which the redhead took politely.

She didn't know what was worse. The fact that Kara was unapologetically in her territory, or that Kara was carrying out a mission in her sister's presence _in her territory_. By and large, there was going to be murder on the news tomorrow; she could feel it. She could sense it. She wanted to kill Kara for disturbing her peace.

Unfortunately, her peace was further disturbed when recognition drew upon Alex's face as their hands shook. "Hey, aren't you –"

"Nice to meet you, Alex. I have to go, unfortunately." She quickly released Alex's hand and sidestepped the sisters, but not before sidling up to Kara's side and whispering in her ear, "Be careful."

Be careful to not leave a spot.

Be careful to keep her role away from her seemingly very nice sister.

Be careful to not end up on the news tomorrow.

Be careful to _not die_.

 _Be careful_ , because, for some reason that Lena refused to dip into, she _cared_ about Kara Danvers. CIA wasn't about caring. Task Force X wasn't about caring. Q-division wasn't about caring. Her job, the job of every at Q-division was to deliver logistical means for double-ohs to succeed on their field missions, that was it. And yet…she found herself caring.

This time, Lena was the one smiling to herself as she walked away. Behind her, Kara was giving out lame excuses to Alex about the aisle being really cold after she heaved a dramatic shudder. They both knew that it had nothing to do with the cold.

* * *

"There are no rules against fraternization," Schott said quietly in the break room, sipping on his coffee and pretending to not have a care in the word.

Lena narrowed her eyes, confused. Assuming that he would elaborate, she took her cup of coffee from the coffee maker and leaned back against the island. Two sides of the same coin, they were, one leaning against and one leaning back, with the same responsibilities.

"The pin," he iterated, still not looking at her. "It records everything."

The pin recorded everything. It recorded things like faces, voices, _inflections_ of voices, and the minuscule shifts in facial expressions. _Everything_.

It couldn't not record everything, because Lena was _good_ at what she did and strived at perfection in every corner. She wouldn't allow the proposal to become a reality until it was perfect, and that included the pin disguised as a sheep on the collar of a homely sweater.

Ah, shit.

Lena sipped on her coffee, deciding to stay silent.

He shrugged. "I'm just saying…there are no rules against fraternization. I'm not even sure you can call it fraternization if there are no rules against it."

"You have a poor grasp of the dictionary then," she remarked.

He snorted and pushed away from the island, eyeing her purposely, though not knowingly. He didn't know anything, apart from a short clip from a pin. But he knew something, if he was here talking about this with her. He was smart enough to be able to detected her facial expressions and voice inflections from a small clip. It was why he was in Q-division in the first place.

"She likes you," he admitted with another shrug. He started walking backwards, maintaining their eye contact. "Whatever that means."

Yeah, whatever that meant.

* * *

"I'm gonna tell you something."

Honestly, _twice_ in a row. Lena looked away from the cheese selection laid out in front of her to shoot a glare at Kara Danvers, who was standing in _her_ supermarket… _twice_ in a row.

" _Seriously_ , are you stalking me?"

"This time, yes," Kara confessed. She wasn't wearing glasses and her hair was down and there was no pin on her collar – she _was_ Kara. At least she had the decency to appear guilty this time around. "I wanted to talk to you."

Lena chose a block of parmesan cheese and threw it in her basket. She sidled past Kara and strode down the aisle – there were more things she wanted to buy, but right now, she just wanted to pay for the cheese at the cashier and go home. She wanted to put as much distance between her and Kara as possible.

Predictably though, Kara started following her, easily matching her strides with her sinfully long legs that still looked good under a pair of baggy sweatpants.

"I don't appreciate disruption to my work-life balance. I certainly don't appreciate people _stalking_ me," she spat, the pettiness in her rising up against her will.

"You're amazing." Lena stopped in her tracks and swung around to face Kara with all the incredulity she could muster. Kara gulped – this was perhaps the first time Lena saw her _nervous_ …ever. "The first time I saw you at headquarters, you were talking with Brainy and you were doing a lot of hand gestures. You were _animated_ , passionate. And I – I couldn't stop _looking_."

"Kara –"

"You're intelligent and you're beautiful, but you know that," Kara bungled on, disregarding the fact that they were standing in the middle of a fucking _supermarket_ and goddamn Fifth Harmony was blaring on about moving on in the background. "That's the thing about you. You _know_ your worth and you're not afraid to show it. You're good at what you do but you're also _confident_ in what you do. And you –"

"Kara, stop."

"I can't stop thinking about you," Kara said breathlessly, shaking her head and staring back at Lena with the same incredulity. "I go out on missions and I think about you. I go home and I think about you. I go back to the headquarters for a debriefing and I think about you. _You_ are all I –"

" _005_ ," Lena bit out between gritted teeth, her entire posture stiff and her gaze fiery.

The blonde stopped. And she had those…puppy eyes. In the face of this kind of imploration, Lena was sure that her resolve would be broken and she would drop everything to be at the beck and call of the one and only Kara Danvers – it was no wonder she was such a good agent; no one could say no to that face.

In _any_ other situation, Lena would actually drop everything, because nothing this woman wanted her to do could be bad, not with that face and not with those eyes. This wasn't _just_ a situation though. They were different people made of different things, which was why they were who they were and they did what they do.

Instead of dropping, she stood her ground, feet firmly planted and decision firmly made the moment Kara opened her mouth and told her that she was amazing. Those were all the things that Lena knew about herself and thought about Kara. And hearing all those things, well, she was just a woman, after all.

She clenched her jaw and closed her eyes for a second, if only to not have to be confronted with that face for a second. "What is it that you want me to say?" she asked slowly.

"Say that you feel the same."

"I do," she confessed, because she might as well. What did she have to lose? Well, _that_ – the brightness that took over the other woman, the way her shoulders loosened, the smile that seemed to be reserved for her. That, she was going to lose that. "And then what?" she kept on, raising a brow.

"Say that I'm not alone in this."

"You're not. And then what?" she pushed.

"Say that you want to be with me."

"I do. And then _what_?" she persevered.

At this point, the smile gentled into one of uncertainty. The brightness dimmed into something that resembled bewilderment. The posture stiffened up again. Lena was beginning to lose it all, she could tell.

"Say that you _will_ be with me," Kara whispered.

There it was. The crux of it all. The part where the raven-haired woman, the Q, the strong woman who was still somewhat fragile, _Lena_ , would have to be realistic and true to herself and Kara. It was no wonder that Kara was such a _good_ double-oh, because she truly believed in what she did and she was optimistic beyond it all.

"I _can't_ ," Lena replied in a whisper as well, refusing the tears from welling up in her eyes – she would _not_ show weakness. No, no, she would let the pettiness take over. Anger and all that, because anything was better than to be weak. "I don't know – what the hell did you expect to come out of this?" she hissed, combing her fingers through her hair. "That I'll leap into your arms and we'll have our happily ever after?"

" _Yes_ ," Kara hissed back.

" _No_ ," Lena whisper-yelled, crowding into Kara's space, uncaring of the freckles and the wrinkles and the fucking _eyes_. "There is no such thing as a happily ever after, not for _us_. Look at me –"

"I _am_ looking at you. You're all I've ever been able to look at since the day I saw you," Kara snapped, not backing down from Lena.

"Then look at _us_ ," Lena quickly rebuked. "What do you see?" She raised her brows challengingly and crossed her brows. "I see a _spy_ and a _killer_. Call it what you want, but we're amazing liars and we do _terrible_ things. We kill and we come back and we pretend. One day, karma will come for us, and then _what_?"

"You don't kill –"

"God, of courseI do!" she spat out. "I make the things that you use to kill on your missions. We're all assassins at Task Force X, like it or not. We're all fucked in the head."

"What does that have to do with us being together?"

Lena inhaled sharply and made a point to smile pleasantly at a passerby so he'd think that they were just having a passionate conversation about fucking cheeses, and not about assassinations. She turned back to Kara and took a moment, a very brief moment, to just observe the person in front of her.

"One day, karma will come for us and one of us will end up dead. And when you die after I've allowed myself to fall in love with you, I –" Her throat closed up on her. She took an abrupt step back and shook her head. "You're right. I _am_ amazing, but not enough to be able to handle…that. I can't. I won't."

There was a moment when Kara seemed like she wanted to argue more, and Lena would have welcomed it. She had more in her repertoire, all the convincing she had in her pocket, to fight this battle that she didn't want to fight in the first place. She'd been saving it up, because she'd had this debate with herself for months whenever Kara so much as looked at her.

Surprisingly though, the blonde stepped back as well, placing more distance between them. Just two people standing in an aisle in a supermarket. More than friends, but maybe not even that anymore. Kara always found a way to surprise her.

Lena put the basket down on the floor and stuck her hands in her coat pockets. "See you Monday, 005."

She didn't let herself think about how Kara's face crumbled at the utilization of her codename as she spun around and hightailed out of the supermarket. What she let herself do was _hate_ Kara for doing this; for even _thinking_ this could end up good in the first place.

She hated and hated and hated on the way back to her place. She hated and hated and hated as she popped open a fresh bottle of bourbon from the bar. She hated and hated and hated while she drank straight from the bottle in the darkness of her living room. She hated and hated and hated as she withered alone under the moonlight.

She hated and hated and…stopped hating as she fell asleep, because she'd learned that there was no hating Kara. There wasn't such a thing. It simply wasn't possible.

* * *

"Q."

"005."

The two of them walked past each other down the corridor, actively ensuring that their shoulders wouldn't brush. And they went about their jobs.

They were a double-oh and a Q. They killed for a living. They lied for a living. And they could keep lying to themselves about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and now y'all are probably wishing i never published this fic at all. i would really appreciate comments though, tell what you think about this fic, because this is the first time i'm writing this kind of stuff so i'm really not too sure. 
> 
> if the feedback's good, uh well, there might be a second part. perhaps. i have an idea of how it'll go, but who knows? maybe i'll leave you here, because i'm cyclothimic, and i'm nothing if not somewhat evil, as proven from my earlier fics. comments would still really help! 
> 
> oh, and if you're still interested in seeing my work, maybe have [gander here](https://cyclothimic.tumblr.com/post/611650626423816192/a-struggling-writers-tale), because i can use all the help i can get, or you can catch me at [embettah](https://twitter.com/embettah) on twitter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fine, you convinced me.
> 
> now, read, ponder, and enjoy!

005 wasn't always 005, just like how Amanda Waller wasn't always the director of Task Force X or how her mother wasn't always dead. Everyone had a beginning, and so did Kara Danvers.

She started out as an insignificant private in the marines, clumsy and not a clue as to what she was supposed to do. She worked her way up the ladder, beating away advances from her brothers in arms and learning all the tips and tricks that would make a good marine. She wasn't always the best at stealth, but she _excelled_ in undercover and improvisation, making her an invaluable member in the squad.

Heck, the woman thrived and soared so hard that she was promoted to Master Sergeant in just four tours. She was a hero and she could have done it for the rest of her life. She _would_ have, until Kara was felled by a _thirteen-year-old_ insurgent in Afghanistan.

A bullet lodged in her hip, and then she was honorably discharged with a commendation medal that she could never show anyone else, because a lot of the things she did as a marine were matters of national security; things that could never see the light of day.

When she went back stateside, she was of the mind that she would not be useful anymore. Forever drowning her sorrows in endless bottles of bourbon and watching as the presidents switch and switch and switch, and she would be forgotten. But then Amanda Waller showed up at her door and quite literally changed her life. Gave her a job that she would undoubtedly _excel_ at. Offered her fat paychecks to build up a significant nest egg that would do her well for the rest of her life. Delivered her the thrills of being a soldier on the field, even as a covert one.

Sure, Kara couldn't tell her family anything about Task Force X or the stuff she had done to be 005, but she found her purpose. She met people, good people, smart people, people who had sacrificed their entire lives to serve the country. She found her purpose.

At least, she thought she did…until she met Lena Luthor.

* * *

"Who's that?"

Winn had looked up from his tablet, in the middle of calibrating the gloves that would be her lifeline on her next mission. He followed Kara's gaze across the many glass walls that separated them and the woman who would later be a permanent resident in Kara's head rent free.

"Lena Luthor," he said, shifting his careful gaze over to Kara, because other than Alex, he was the one who knew her best.

Kara knew that name. She knew Lena Luthor.

She knew because she'd done her research into the Luthor tribe during her second year, after she'd found out that LuthorCorp had been responsible for the death of her cousin's child with Lois Lane. She'd done so much research that her superior had to warn her off, because like it or not, LuthorCorp was the biggest weapon supplier to the US and the government was in no position to fall out of favor with them.

Scratch that, Kara _knew_ the Luthor family, the ins and outs and absolute madness that gripped Lex and Lillian Luthor like cocaine. She knew _of_ Lena Luthor, because of all the research she'd done, there was hardly anything about the woman. No pictures. No accidentally salacious tweets. Nothing but a couple of certificates and a trophy in polo.

Lex Luthor was known as the Merchant of Death. Lena Luthor was known as the black invisible sheep of the family.

" _Oh_ ," Kara breathed, still staring, observing, admiring.

A part of her wanted very much to hate this woman who was sister to the man who killed her cousin's kid, indirectly or directly – she was still looking into it on her own time. But as she looked at the woman rooms away from her and sifted through the bank of Luthor knowledge in her head, she knew right then and there that hating Lena Luthor was not an option.

* * *

Kara didn't expect that she would end up falling in love with Lena.

But that didn't matter anyway. It didn't matter, because they were _spies_ and _killers_ , and Lena didn't want to mourn anyone else.

* * *

Doing what she did best, because it was the only thing to keep her mind off of Lena's venomous words that had yet to stop slicing into her heart and flaying her from deep within.

She slipped and slid. She tricked and charmed old politicians who didn't know to keep their hands to themselves. She snuck poisons and stole intel from everyone and anyone. She put a bullet in the heads of anyone who came in her way.

She put on her glasses and she became 005, all the while thinking about how Lena had modified those glasses one late night.

"These things are useless, and you told me you needed them to be 005. Might as well make them useful," Lena had muttered, snatching the object from her pocket and fiddling with it.

After one whole day with it, Lena returned her newly modified glasses that would allow her to recognize heat signatures through walls and read messages without ever looking at her phone or watch. Inconspicuous. Sneaky. Fit for a spy. The most precious tool Kara had ever had, if only because she was the only one for whom Lena considered worthy enough to put in extra work.

Who was she kidding? Hating Lena wasn't option. Forgetting Lena certainly wasn't an option either. There was no other option around Lena Luthor other than to love her.

* * *

Despite her very best effort at pleading, Schott still insisted that he couldn't do it. The implant was an invention of Lena. Sure, the usual Q would be able to perform the usual maintenance and make sure the double-ohs weren't getting poisoned or anything of the sort.

But this was more than maintenance, and Lena inarguably was the best bioengineer in the building other than Dr. Caitlin Snow. Kara could have easily scheduled an appointment with Caitlin, but alas, the woman had taken the week off and Lena was the only Q most familiar with her very own invention. Kara could have waited until Caitlin was back, but alas, she needed to be in Hong Kong tomorrow.

Hence, she found herself at a loss of choices and standing outside the lab two hours after everyone else had bade their goodbyes to return to their normal lives. Kara had even canceled plans with her sister so she could be at headquarters. Truthfully, she was kind of hoping to wait it out until Lena headed home herself, so they wouldn't have to be in the same room together.

That evidently didn't work, as Lena was very much still in her lab two hours after the lights had automatically shut down, leaving only her desk lamp. Kara wasn't ashamed to be admit that she had been hiding in a conference room far away from the lab, ignoring knowing looks from her colleagues.

When she realized that there was no way she was going to be the cause of Lena staying late, she made her way to the lab and…hovered. She hovered and considered choices, even though there were no choices.

Through the glass wall, there Lena was, studying something via the microscope. A long time ago, the spy had realized something about the other woman. It was inarguable that Lena was beautiful – Kara had known that from the first moment she set eyes on the woman – but there was also the fact, an actual fact, that Lena was the most beautiful when she was concentrating.

The little frown at the bridge of her nose. Her mouth slightly open as she breathed. Body still but not stiff. Kara's knees were near buckling every time she was confronted with that sight. And she couldn't have her. She couldn't have this woman, this wonderful and hilarious and willingly cold-hearted woman.

She sighed, took off her glasses, and entered the lab, making her presence known by heaving her footfalls.

"Q," she greeted, her voice low but echoing in the quietness of the headquarters.

As if she had been expecting her, Lena didn't startle at the interruption. She simply lifted her gaze and merely blinked at Kara. Lena tilted her head, frown deepening. She sucked in her lower lip and sighed herself.

"Are you –" Lena shook her head and cleared her throat. "Can you put on your glasses?" she requested.

Kara raised her brows and promptly shook her own head. "No." Lena heaved a small groan, barely audible. The aforementioned glasses firmly remained in her shirt pocket, and its owner refused to put them back on. "No, _Q_ , I will not put on my glasses. I don't care whether you wanna be Lena or Q with me, but I will be Kara with you. At least…when we're alone."

"Fine," Lena replied shortly. She gestured at the empty stool next to her and stood up to gather her equipment. "Fine," she repeated, softer.

The blonde sat down on the stool and rolled the sleeve of her left arm, placing it on the cushion by the microscope. She didn't take her eyes off of Lena as the woman moved around the room, seemingly determined to not meet her gaze. Well, too bad.

When Lena finally returned to the desk, Kara took note of the way her chin trembled and her nostrils flared, as if she was making a larger effort to keep _something_ at bay. And still, no eye contact was made. Zilch. None. Kara didn't know what hurt most – that Lena hadn't wanted her to be herself or she couldn't properly see the eyes she'd missed so damn much.

It was late. Kara had a jet to catch in the morning to track down a mafia head who'd allegedly been acquiring nuclear from Iran. They were both exhausted. She let down her guard and asked, "Can we at least be friends?"

Lena paused in adjusting the probes that had been inserted in Kara's forearm, straight into her bloodstream. "You're the one who started calling me Q," she muttered, a little pettily, and sat on her stool, typing on the keyboard.

"I – yeah, I guess you have a point," Kara replied with a pout, watching as data of her own body showed up on the computer screen. She still remembered it so clearly, the Monday after their confrontation at the supermarket, and how Kara had resorted to using Lena's codename immediately. "I'm sorry. I was feeling petty. It's not everyday I get rejected after I declared my love for someone."

The scientist's head snapped towards her in a flash, her eyes blazing. "You didn't –" She clenched her jaw and returned to the computer. Believe it or not, her typing actually got louder as the seconds passed by.

Any further explanation was deterred, because Kara was sure she didn't wanna see the look on Lena's face directed towards her again. She'd seen it twice so far and she didn't like it. Therefore, she just sat there and let Lena upgrade the implant. Waller had sent all the double-ohs a precise email on what the upgrade would do, but Kara didn't exactly pay attention.

All she could think of was having to be in the same room with Lena again. Alone. That was enough to send Kara to the wrestling ring for four hours until her sister had come to drag her out. It wasn't a pretty sight. Plus, she trusted Lena implicitly, so really, she'd let the woman cut her open if it was necessary. These things were terrible values to have in a spy, but Kara was a woman beneath all the smoke and mirrors.

"It wasn't fair," Lena finally said, carefully removing the probes from Kara's arms once she was done. "You shouldn't have done what you did." Kara hummed in acknowledge, not voicing her disagreement. "If I agree for us to be friends, will you please help me in keeping us that way?"

Kara noticed the choice of words immediately.

 _Help_. _Keeping_.

Those were very specific words, and Lena was a very specific person.

"Okay," she agreed softly, paying no mind to the vulnerabilities of her own heart, and it was worth it – for that smile, it was all worth it.

If Kara had opted to lean forward and capture those alluring lips, she was certain that Lena would have succumbed. It wasn't just assumption. Kara was excellent at reading people – one of the reasons she was so good at her job – and she could read the fragility and resolve on that face.

However, other than the fragility and resolve, she recognized the quiet plea and the self-awareness. This was not an ultimatum. This was a cry for help from a woman who rarely cried for help. Kara could never take advantage of that. She would never forgive herself if she did.

* * *

The main area of the headquarters was unsafe. Incredibly unsafe. It was always safe, perhaps the most secure place on the face of the earth, but right this moment, anyone standing in the way of _yet_ another escalating argument between Waller and 001 would perish and their deaths would be unworthy.

Kara refused to be one of those unworthy deaths, so before she could be sacrificed in the fallout, she hurried out of the main area like she was being chased by fire. A few double-ohs and Qs were also scurrying out to safe places, and Kara found herself hurrying towards a conference room on the opposite of the building.

"It's safe in here."

She stared with wide eyes at the occupant, who was peacefully munching on her salad. "Lena, tell me that's not salad," she directed, pointedly eyeballing the offensive green stuff in front of the quartermaster. When Lena shrugged with a cheeky smile, Kara groaned aloud. "You're killing me."

"Better kale than that erupting volcano outside, right?"

"I can't, on good conscience, let you stay here and eat that crap," the spy complained, making herself comfortable opposite the scientist, because despite being in the transitional state of friends and something less, there still needed to be _distance_.

"Are we _supposed_ to have a conscience?"

Kara narrowed her eyes, tilting her head at Lena, who was mindlessly swiping on her tablet with one hand and feeding herself disgusting food with the other. "We take out bad guys. I think we have to have a conscience to do that," she replied slowly, studying the woman opposite her.

Lena hummed, raising her brows for a second and still looking at her tablet. She wasn't saying anything.

"You disagree?"

"We serve at the pleasure of the president." Lena shrugged and lifted her gaze from her tablet to meet Kara's eyes. "Who's to say his conscience has always been in the right place?"

"I think that constitutes as treason."

Surprisingly enough, the raven-haired woman didn't seem afraid at the accusation. Her lips only spread wide into a grin, an amused one. She heaved a chuckle and gestured aimlessly around the room, leaning back in the high-backed chair. "Task Force X is a covert intelligence slash paramilitary unit buried so deep within the CIA that I'm not sure even a regular CIA agent knows about us. We're treasonous just for being employed," Lena observed.

Kara frowned at the observation, leaning closer, as if it would allow her a view into Lena's thoughts right this moment. She was concerned, to say the least. "Is everything okay?" she asked, losing the playful qualities of earlier.

"Dandy," Lena shot out in a cavalier manner, fingers tapping mindlessly on the top of the conference table as she stared into the air. And then she sighed deeply and her eyes flickered. "I recently found out that my brother had a hand in…killing a relative of yours," she explained. "Why didn't you tell me?"

It didn't surprise Kara that Lena didn't know. After all, she and Clark didn't share a last name. Heck, they'd barely spent anytime together after the funeral, with Clark shutting down from Kara's failures into the investigation and isolating him and his wife away from her.

The file on Lex Luthor's transgressions took up an entire drawer somewhere in the White House, forever shut away from public eye. Kara had her own folder on the entire Luthor saga on her private laptop, which had been gathering dust since everything had led to a dead end. The truth of the matter was that the government was simply a monument and a front; it could barely do anything.

That was why the US had things like Task Force X. To do the real job. And Waller had refused to sanction official investigations into Lex Luthor, because he was the one thing keeping the armed forces running.

"I didn't see the point."

"You didn't see the point?" Lena asked incredulously, sitting up right. "My brother _killed_ your nephew!"

"And then what?" Kara shot back, echoing the words that Lena had thrown at her repeatedly at the supermarket. "I can't bring my nephew back. There's no solid proof that your brother had a hand in killing my nephew. I _didn't_ see the point."

"How can you sit here with his sister? How can you still bear to look at me?"

Ah, so that was it.

Kara pushed to her feet and rounded the conference table to Lena's side. Distance wouldn't do in this conversation, not if she wanted Lena to see her sincerity. She rested her hip against the edge of the table and made sure to look into Lena's eyes.

"I'm gonna tell you something: you are _not_ your brother," Kara announced softly, a smile tugging on her lips. "Trust me, I wanted to hate you, just like how I _hate_ your brother with every atom in me." She shrugged. "But you're here and you're doing your part in saving the world, saving us. You're not your brother, and like I said, you're amazing. Instead of hating you, I ended up liking you more than I should."

Lena inhaled sharply at the repeated confession. While 001 and Waller were wreaking verbal havoc outside, they remained in this room – one of the few rooms with actual solid walls surrounding them and blocking them away from the rest of the world.

They were close, what with Kara having lowered her head to ensure her words weren't falling on deaf ears. And Kara, very badly, wanted to kiss Lena. To lock the door and close the curtains. To take Lena in arms and have her right there and then. Screw the rest of the world and screw impractical protocols. She just wanted to kiss every inch of skin there was to the woman in front of her and display her love to the only person that mattered.

Then the door slammed open, and in came a horde of Qs and double-ohs who probably realized that they needed to escape before they were involved in the fallout of another infamous confrontation between 001 and Waller.

"God, it's like Oliver wants Waller to fire him," Felicity complained, shooting the two of them a meaningful look.

They had jumped apart as soon as they heard the click, but Felicity wasn't stupid. No one in Task Force X was stupid. Waller had made sure of that.

Kara laughed in response, pretending that she hadn't almost let down her guard and allow her libido to take over. She pushed away from the table and went back to her seat on the other side of the table, joined by her colleagues. They pretended they hadn't just had one of the important conversations of their lives and got themselves talking with the others.

* * *

There was once when Kara had been rushing out of the weapons cache to provide backup for 002 and 003 in Malaysia. Lena was on her way out of Waller's office – also one of the few rooms with proper walls – probably having discussed another project.

They weren't paying attention to what was in front of them and ended up clashing into one another. Literally. With the loud smack and everything else. Rowdy enough to attract the attention of pretty everyone else, including the other double-ohs who had been summoned to provide backup.

Despite being the heavier of the two, Kara could already see that the two of them would fall. So instinctively, Kara pivoted and pulled on Lena's waist so she would end up taking the brunt of the fall.

The one flaw in that last-minute plan was that Lena ended up sprawled on top of her. With Kara's hands on her hips still, they got caught up in the moment, seemingly having forgotten about everyone else. Lena had appeared as if she didn't much convincing to relent into their closeness.

That was, until 006 cleared her throat and meaningfully looked away, but not without Kara noticing the smirk on her lips.

They quickly got away from one another, getting up on their feet, nodding at one another, and going their separate ways.

For the next week, or even month, Kara couldn't wash away the lingering warmth of Lena's body from her hands. She wasn't sure she wanted to. She now had a near-intimate knowledge of what it was like to hold Lena, accidental as it was. There was no way she could ever forget it.

* * *

"What do you want?"

"Huh?"

"You know I'm not blind, right? None of us are blind."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

Juice box seemingly permanently attached to her lips, Felicity Smoak didn't seem like she hacked international networks on a daily basis. Necessary glasses and a perpetual ponytail tied at the back of her head, Felicity Smoak always managed to look like the most harmless of them all at Task Force X, even though her brain and fingers could prove to be fatal.

That was true, by the way. Just in summer two years ago, in an act that was covered up in the most expert of ways by Waller and the White House Chief of Staff, Felicity had managed to prevent a third world war by redirecting a missile from Moscow to Havenrock back in their hometown.

According to 001 – Oliver Queen – the one person who knew Felicity, she had carried that heavy guilt on her shoulders ever since, apparently still getting nightmares from what she'd done, despite the fact that she had saved the world from a war. From then on, she'd been on a personal warpath to bring Damien Darhk to justice, even though he was her father.

Everyone in Task Force X had bones in their family crypts, even ones as innocent looking as Felicity Smoak.

Kara liked Felicity. They shared things in common, like laughing at Homeland's poor depiction of covert operations and making fun of 001. But they weren't particularly close, which was why Kara was a bit weirded out when Felicity singled her out for a lunch expedition at a nearby bodega. She went along anyway.

"I'm talking about you and a certain Q," Felicity started, finally putting the juice box and unwrapping the sandwich she'd purchased from the bodega. "I'm talking about Lena and a certain double-oh. I'm talking about _you and Lena._ "

Kara followed along and unwrapped her own sandwich, bringing it to her mouth. "There's no me and Lena," she replied easily between chews.

"Which is the weird part," Felicity agreed, twisting a little to face Kara. " _Why_ isn't there a you and Lena, Kara?"

The taller blonde kept chewing on her sandwich and considered her options: to be honest or obtuse. She couldn't talk about their non-relationship with Alex, because then, she would have to talk about her work and that would throw her in supermax prison. Schott knew too much about her feelings for Lena that there was just no point in talking about it with him.

Heck, maybe Felicity could offer a fresh perspective. God knew Kara needed that in droves.

"She doesn't want there to be a me and Lena," Kara offered honestly. Who was Felicity gonna tell? 001? The man didn't care about anything other than his mission and Felicity. "She thinks that karma will come for either one of us and she doesn't wanna fall in love with me."

Felicity scoffed, which transitioned into an actual laugh. Felicity actually had a rather nice laugh – no wonder 001 was infatuated with her. "God, that's – that's actually really funny," the hacker commented as her laughter ceded. "It's funny because Lena's _already_ in love with you, for the love of god. It's also funny because you gave up that easily."

"Hey!"

"I mean, _I_ can understand. You won't believe how many times Oliver and I have had the same argument," Felicity dismissed with a wave of her hand. "It took him almost dying to realize that he can't afford to waste more time with us," Felicity said, going somber at the memory. "Look, I like Lena. I like to think she and I are good colleagues, if not friends – I can never tell with her."

"She likes you," Kara offered.

"Oh, thank god. I don't like it when people don't like me," Felicity said, heaving a sigh of relief. "Well, my point is –" she took a sip from juice box and placed it down again "– I don't like seeing two very nice people keep pining over one another and do nothing about it. Mostly because I've gone through it myself. And also, our jobs don't really make it very easy for us to find love."

"I'm not the one who's refusing a relationship here."

"Tell me, Kara, do you give up on your mission when you've hit a dead end?"

"No, I look for other avenues. We get the job done, no matter what."

"So why are you giving up on this?" Felicity raised her brows, pinning Kara down with a studious gaze. "Why aren't you looking for other avenues?"

"Because Lena is a _person_. She's not a mission. I'm not gonna force her to be with me when she doesn't want to."

"Except she _wants_ to," Felicity snapped, her lips almost twisted in a snarl. "You could die tomorrow. Lena could die tomorrow. So stop. Wasting. Time. Make her see that. Make her see that every moment's worthwhile. Every hour is precious. Every minute is meaningful. Every _second_ is worthwhile."

"You speaking of experience?"

"You don't wanna know how many times I've told Oliver this same thing. I basically have it memorized. When I die, put it on my obituary: advising Oliver Queen on not wasting time," Felicity rattled off, shaking her head with a mixture of fondness and disappointment. "He wants to retire," she continued softly. Kara blinked. "Wants to buy a house in Ivy Town and cook omelets. Wants to forget about all these and live a life together. I mean, both of us combined, we have enough of a nest egg to last us through the rest of our lives and then some."

"Do you want to?" Kara asked carefully.

Felicity smiled, but not sincerely. "I like what we do at Task Force X. Or at least, I'll like it until I find my father and throw him in supermax." Kara raised her brows. "I hold grudges. Don't judge me."

She threw her hands up with a laugh. "I'm not. I'm just…surprised. 001 seems married to his job." Felicity nodded in agreement. "Is this retirement going to be anytime soon?"

"We're discussing. Sometimes arguing. But you know –" Felicity shrugged, her smile turning sincere "– I appreciate whatever I have with him. Everyday I get to see him alive and hold him in my arms, I can be at peace with the fact that at least we're _not_ wasting time."

Suddenly, Kara was grateful that Felicity had asked her out for this short lunch, sitting in a park and eating sandwiches from a bodega. She showed her gratitude by nudging her colleague in the shoulder.

* * *

"So here's what we're going to do," she announced as she strode into the library that had become Lena's turf during her time here at Task Force X.

The raven-haired woman started and placed a hand on her chest as she gaped at Kara, the book abandoned on the table before her. Today, she'd chosen to go casual, letting her hair down and dressed up in a striped sweater with a pair of skintight jeans, though the heels were still there. The heels were the epitome of Lena Luthor, steady and tall.

"What?" Lena breathed.

Kara clenched her jaw and shook off the imaginations in her head as she always did when she looked at Lena. She made a beeline for the table and waved away the shushes from the librarian. Yes, even in the library of a department like Task Force X, they had a library. Go figure.

She stood on the other side of the table and leaned her weight on it by pressing her palms down on the surface. Goodness, Lena was _so_ beautiful.

"We're not going to waste time anymore," Kara declared, raising her brows challengingly. " _I_ am not waste time anymore. I'm not going to stand here, look at you, and act like you are not _the_ sun. _I_ am not gonna be _friends_ with you and help you keep us that way. That's wasting time, and I'm not gonna do it."

For a moment, Lena still seemed rather speechless as she gaped at Kara. The blonde was sure she had never seen the woman with her mouth opened so wide before.

And then, after she'd processed Kara's declaration, she just closed her eyes and sighed tiredly. She played with the edges of the book she'd been reading, quiet for a moment longer. Kara braced herself for the arguments that would come her way. She knew that Lena lived for debate – she'd seen the woman's transcripts during her deep research into Lex Luthor – and she'd prepared a trunk full of arguments in return.

Surely, Lena wouldn't be able to go against a trunk full of arguments. She was good, but she wasn't that good. Surely.

"I thought we talked about this," Lena said.

"We did, and I've decided that it's all crap. All of it," Kara retorted resolutely, standing upright to cross her arms. She'd made sure to take off her glasses before she came barging into the library.

"Why? Why can't you just be happy with us being friends?" the other woman bemoaned, looking incredibly exasperated at Kara's insistence.

"Because being friends is _killing_ me," Kara snapped, eyes wide. It came out so harsh that Lena did a double take. "Before I die from karma, I'm gonna die from _just_ being friends with you."

"You're not making any sense."

"I _want_ you." Lena did another double take at the bold confession. "You're Helen of Troy, I'm Paris, and I will launch a thousand ships for you, Lena Luthor. I _will_."

"I am not an object for you to _want_ , Kara Danvers."

"Well, call me a goddamn neanderthal then. I can't help that I want you. I can't help that I _love_ you."

"This is ridiculous."

"No, what _is_ ridiculous is you thinking that us being friends can make me love you any less!" Kara exploded, throwing her hands in the air. She held up a finger when the librarian shushed them again.

After their talk, Kara had spent a whole week pondering Felicity's advice. The woman was a woman with experience, especially with her tumultuous relationship with 001. She knew what she was talking about, and Kara decided that she was right.

Every day, whenever she wasn't on a mission overseas, Kara found herself coming into headquarters just so she could catch a glimpse of Lena's smile. She sated her thirst by having one look at Lena, convincing herself that it was enough. Sometimes, during lunchtime when a group of them would to the cafeteria, Kara would place herself next to Lena and convinced herself that it was enough.

None of that was enough. Not when she couldn't wake up next to Lena every morning. Not when she knew deep down that they could be something so much more. Not when she looked at Sam and her sister and thought that she and Lena could be better than them. Better than anyone.

"The thought of you dying brings me to my _knees_ ," Kara continued arguing, taking advantage of Lena's stunned silence. "But the thought of you dying before we can even have _something_ is worse." She softened herself and tamp down her temper. "So here's what we're going to do: we're not going to waste time anymore," she echoed her previous systems.

"And then what?" Lena asked quietly, without the vitriol or persistence from the supermarket.

Kara relaxed. It wasn't exactly relent, but Lena was on her way there. Kara had pretty much won this argument, and she couldn't be more grateful to Felicity Smoak for waking her up.

She rounded the table and literally went on her knees by Lena's side, gingerly taking her hands and holding them to her chest. "And then we love each other and wait for karma to come for us, but at least we will have known what it's really like to be together in every way that matters."

Absence of noise blanketed them like smog in London – the librarian would appreciate this. She looked into Lena's eyes and watched as the resistance dissolved in those green pools. She felt the way Lena squeezed her fingers, just as strong as Kara's grip.

"You'd make a horrible debater," Lena commented, voice low and teasing.

Kara grinned. "That's why I chose spy-work."

Lena loosened one hand from Kara's grip, despite the latter's hesitation. She lifted that hand to cup Kara's cheek, and _oh_ , it felt so good. It felt so good and so much like home to have Lena's skin on hers, raw and warm and supple. She could hardly believe that they'd waited so long.

And then she was kissing her. Once, twice, until Kara had a taste and she knew then she would never have enough. Lena was everywhere and nowhere, encompassing the air and sun and moon; she was the anchor that kept Kara ashore since the day they met. Kara welcomed the kiss and met it with no resistance at all.

In this kiss was a sweetness of passion, of years to come, of a million loving thoughts all condensed into this endless moment.

"I'm gonna tell you something: I love you," Kara whispered against Lena's lips.

Lena hummed and hovered over Kara's mouth, breathing in her scent. "I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everybody say thank you, felicity smoak, the love of my life.
> 
> oh, and if you're still interested in seeing my work, maybe have [gander here](https://cyclothimic.tumblr.com/post/611650626423816192/a-struggling-writers-tale), because i can use all the help i can get, or you can catch me at [embettah](https://twitter.com/embettah) on twitter.


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